


A Simple Truth

by Shiny_n_new



Category: Actor RPF, The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Dark, Gen, Gods, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-04
Updated: 2012-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-01 03:50:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/351650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiny_n_new/pseuds/Shiny_n_new
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Catching the attention of the gods is rarely a good thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Simple Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://norsekink.livejournal.com/7418.html?thread=14684666#t14684666) at Norsekink.

_“Once, mankind accepted a simple truth: that they were not alone in this universe.”_ -Odin

The thing Chris could never get used to, no matter how long he was in the business, was getting up so early. Or, as one of the stunt guys phrased it, at “ass o’clock.” In this case, 2 AM on a Wednesday. His body had never quite adjusted to the wildly fluctuating schedule that the movie required, and so some mornings he powered through on pure will and coffee. A whole lot of coffee, in this case.

A movie set was never actually abandoned, but it was eerily quiet this early. Chris could see a few people across the lot fussing with one of the moveable walls for the Asgard scenes, but aside from them, the whole place seemed abandoned. The makeup trailer was almost blindingly bright, the lights glinting off the mirrors, and it took Chris several seconds of blinking before he could see again. Even the trailer was unusually empty that morning, just him, Tom, and two of the makeup people. No one wanted to be awake at that hour.

“Morning, sunshine,” Chris said, grinning at Tom. Tom just offered a sleepy yawn, stretched, and leaned back in the makeup chair. Chris dropped into the chair beside him, both of them looking slightly out of it in the bright mirrors.

“How long are they keeping you here today?” Ally, one of the makeup artists, asked. She had the injury kit in one arm, ready to draw cuts and bruises across his face. They were filming the scene where Loki visited Thor after he’d been captured by SHIELD, and so Chris had to look ruffled and rain-drenched.

“You know Ken doesn’t let us go until he feels like it,” Tom said with a laugh. “We’re gonna be here all day.”

“Poor babies,” Ally snorted. “Tilt your head back, please.”

“I’m not complaining,” Tom said. “I get to wear real clothes today instead of leather.”

“Oh yeah, this is the first time your costume’s not going to take a half hour to slide into,” Chris said, tilting his head back and to the side to better accommodate Ally. “Just enough to make you miss it.”

The sound of two cellphones going off simultaneously was shockingly loud in the quiet trailer, enough to make Chris and Tom jump in their chairs. Both the women checked their phones, surprise clear on their faces.

“Huh, we’re being summoned,” said the other makeup artist, whose name Chris hadn’t caught yet.

“Is anyone else set to film this early?” Chris asked.

“No idea,” Ally responded. “Okay, we’ll be right back, hopefully.”

They slipped out the door and into the dark, chilly morning, leaving Chris and Tom both half-asleep in their chairs. Chris swiveled back and forth, trying to wake himself up, while Tom cracked his knuckles beside him.

“So, what’re you going to do with your beard once filming’s over?” Tom asked, mostly to make conversation.

Chris laughed. “I dunno, I’m thinking about just letting it grow really long. Like a ZZ-Top beard.”

“Yeah, that’d suit you,” Tom said, grinning.

The door opened behind them, and Chris half-turned in his chair to ask Ally what the texts had been about. But instead of the makeup artists, two unfamiliar men in suits slipped inside and came to stand behind Tom and Chris. Chris narrowed his eyes, wondering if this was going to turn out to be a creepy fan thing; he might not know everyone on set very well, but they’d all become familiar faces. These two were new.

The man behind Chris was older, maybe in his late fifties or early sixties. It was hard to tell, honestly, since even though his face was wrinkled and his hair was greyed, there was something very…youthful about him. It was a strange contrast, almost startling, and Chris was so unnerved by it that it took him a minute to realize the man was missing an eye. There was an eyepatch over his left eye, the fabric slightly worn with age. There was something about him that made Chris nervous, verging on flat out uncomfortable.

The man behind Tom was younger than his companion, not looking older than thirty. He had dark hair and bright, almost wild brown eyes that stood out starkly against his pale skin. He was wearing a shit-eating grin, wide and not very nice at all. He settled his hands on the back of Tom’s chair.

“Hiddleston, right?” he asked, in a surprisingly deep voice.

“Uh, yes?” Tom said, shooting Chris a ‘what the hell is this?’ glance. Chris could only shrug.

“And you must be the one playing Thor,” Eyepatch said, clapping a friendly hand on Chris’ shoulder that really wasn’t appreciated.

Chris did his best to offer a friendly smile, though. “Yeah, that’s me. Chris Hemsworth.” Chris held his hand out to shake. Eyepatch’s hand was warm, his grip surprisingly strong. They were still mid-handshake when the guy with the enormous grin grabbed Tom by the chin and yanked his head up.

“Ah, he’s handsome,” Grinning Guy said, cooing at Tom. “Such a good choice they made.”

Tom recoiled, trying to yank his head away, and Chris rose out of his chair to help. Or he tried to, anyway. Eyepatch’s grip tightened on his hand and his shoulder painfully, forcing Chris back down into the chair and nearly breaking his arm in the process.

“Let go of me,” Tom ordered in a low, angry voice, once it became clear that he wasn’t going to get away.

Grinning Guy just laughed and whirled the chair around so that they were facing the mirror. Still holding onto Tom, he settled his chin on the other man’s shoulder. It was uncomfortably intimate, and Chris did his best to yank his hand out of Eyepatch’s grasp, snarling at him when he wouldn’t let go. These two were _strong_ , strong in a way that almost seemed impossible given their size and age. Chris’ first thought had been that this was some kind of prank, but there was something dead serious about the two men.

“So tell me, Tommy, what do you think of Loki?” Grinning Guy said, pressing his cheek against Tom’s and grinning at his reflection.

“I think you’re headed to jail unless you get out of here right now,” Tom said, still trying to wriggle away from him. “Chris?”

“I’m all right,” Chris said, voice tight and angry. “The pirate’s about to break my hand, though.”

That just made Eyepatch smile, and he turned Chris’ chair so that it was facing the mirror as well. Chris could see just how Eyepatch was looming over him in his reflection, and he felt a little flutter of panic shoot through him. Who the hell were these two, and what did they want?

“I asked you a question,” Grinning Guy said, tsking. “What do you think of Loki?”

“Fuck you.”

“Because I think I’m just as handsome as you, Hiddleston.” Grinning Guy’s teeth looked a little bit sharper than normal as he said that, his smile nearly stretching off his face.

Chris and Tom both froze, meeting each other’s eyes in the mirror. They were both wearing twin looks of ‘Oh fuck, two crazy people are about to kill us.’

Chris cleared his throat and said, “What the hell are you talki-”

He trailed off, unable to get anything besides confused vowel sounds out, because Grinning Guy was _changing._ His face was melting and reshaping, his features running together like clay being sculpted. When his skin finally stopped moving, Grinning Guy looked exactly like Tom, like they were clones. Except Tom had never looked quite as gleefully menacing. Tom’s eyes were wide and terrified, and Eyepatch was just _smiling_.

“What are you?” Tom breathed.

“The Trickster,” Grinning Guy said, letting go of Tom and straightening with a flourish. “The Liesmith. The god with the silver tongue.” He flicked his tongue out, like he was demonstrating.

“You’re saying you’re Loki,” Chris said. In a distant part of his mind, one that wasn’t screaming and running in circles at the impossibility he’d just seen, he noticed that his voice sounded slightly hysterical. “ _The_ Loki.”

“The one and only,” Loki said. “Take a wild guess who my friend here is.”

“Odin One-eye,” Tom said, sounding like he was on the verge of choking. “The Allfather.”

Eyepatch smiled. “Pleased to meet you.”

“This is crazy, this is fucking impossible,” Chris said, struggling to get up. “This isn’t funny, get out of-”

Eyepatch (apparently _Odin_ , the fucking _god_ ) whirled Chris’ chair around so that he could lean forward and box him in. His voice serious and slightly gravelly, he said, “Do you know what happens to the gods, when people stop believing in them?”

“We weaken, fade away,” Loki said, carding his fingers through Tom’s hair like he was a skittish cat. Tom, for his part, looked like he was judging the distance to the door of the trailer and trying not to hyperventilate. “So sad. Until they find a new use for us, of course. Who’d have thought it would be comic books?”

“You’re saying the…the comic books give you power? They keep you alive?” Chris boggled up at them. Was he actually having this conversation? He’d have been sure he was dreaming, except his hand still throbbed where Odin had gripped it.

“Not just the comic books,” Odin said, still smiling a friendly, paternal smile that was completely at odds with the way he loomed over Chris like a predator. “All your little mortal creations. Statues, stories, cartoons.” His smile grew a little wider. “Movies.”

Understanding clicked into place, even as Tom said, “That’s why you’re here.”

“You can’t imagine how many people are talking about our pantheon now,” Loki said, leaning on the back of Tom’s chair. “All I hear is ‘Loki, Loki, Loki’ everywhere I turn. It’s wonderful.”

“I thought you two hated each other,” Chris said, eyes darting between the…he couldn’t quite say ‘gods’, not even in his head. It was too crazy. “Didn’t you tie him up with his own son’s guts?”

“Necessity makes for strange bedfellows,” Odin said with a very human shrug.

“And we’re very effective bedfellows,” Loki said, flashing those too-sharp teeth again. He leaned forward over Tom to say to Chris, “Sorry, big guy. We’d have brought Thor along, but he’s got such a temper. It would have been a shame for you to get your head caved in if he got testy.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Tom asked, trying to squirm away from Loki. He wasn’t looking at the god’s face, and Chris couldn’t blame him. It must have been like looking into a mirror whose reflection moved all on its own.

“There are so many people depending on the success of your movie,” Odin said. There was something about his movements and his smile that spoke of violence, rapidly approaching. “We just wanted to offer our encouragement.”

“Wish you luck,” Loki added, in a sugary-sweet tone.

“And to leave you with a thought,” Odin said.

Quite suddenly, his hands were fisted in the fabric of Chris’ shirt, and Chris was slammed against the ground so hard he was surprised he didn’t break through the floor of the trailer. He heard Tom shout, but couldn’t focus on that because two huge birds had appeared out of nowhere on either side of Chris’ head. _Ravens_ , he thought woozily, staring at their jet-black feathers as they hopped closer to him.

Odin was on top of him, a knee digging into his chest as he leaned close. “This movie is very important to us, boys. If it failed, it would almost be like a personal insult.”

“And we don’t like insults,” Loki said from somewhere above him.

The birds darted forward suddenly, their beaks stopping inches from Chris’ eyes like two spears paused mid-flight. He didn’t move, didn’t even want to breathe for fear that it would bring him closer to those wickedly sharp beaks. He blinked, and his eyelashes brushed against the birds. _Oh God, oh fuck_ , he thought, mind skittering in terror as he stared up at Odin past the ravens.

“We take revenge for insults,” Odin said, in that same calm, fatherly tone. He reached down and tapped the space just below Chris’ eye. His left eye, Chris realized. “An eye for an eye, you could say.”

“So, Tommy, Chris, you’re going to do everything in your power to make sure this movie is wildly successful,” Loki said. Chris couldn’t see what he was doing to Tom, his vision filled with Odin and his ravens, but he heard the other man let out a low, frightened moan. “We want everyone to be talking about us. There’s a franchise to think about, after all.”

Odin smiled at him and the birds backed off suddenly, fluttering onto Odin’s shoulders. He patted Chris on the cheek. “Good luck, son.”

And then they were both gone, as if they’d never been there at all. Chris wanted to believe it was a hallucination, but the rapidly forming bruises on his hand and shoulder were definitely real. Tom was sprawled in the makeup chair, looking disheveled and vaguely nauseous.

“Oh God,” Chris moaned, surprised to realize he was shaking.

“Gods,” Tom said, sliding out of the chair to sit on the ground next to Chris. They were practically pressed against each other, both of them instinctively wanting the simple, animal comfort that came from huddling up against something familiar.

Chris swallowed a few times, looking for something to say. Anything to say. But what finally came out was, “He’s a lot scarier than Anthony.”

“And Anthony was Hannibal,” Tom said. Both of them wheezed out a high, jagged sound that might have been a laugh. But really, there was nothing funny at all.

And so months later, their co-stars would talk about how hard Chris and Tom worked, willing to do a scene over and over and over again just to get it right. The press would comment on the astonishing number of publicity junkets and interviews the two did. And both of them would sigh quiet, desperately relieved sighs when the production of _The Avengers_ was announced.

Anything to keep the gods at bay.


End file.
